Sunday, August 11, 2013

According to Victoria Blisse, the founder of the Sunday Snog tradition, snogs don't have to be mouth to mouth kisses. So today I have a very intense bit of alternative orality for you, from my erotic thriller Exposure.

After you've read my snog, hop on over to Snog Central for more sexy kisses!

Oh, and while I have your attention - Exposureand every other Books We Love title is on sale at Amazon from now until the end of August for $2.99.

Sex, blood and betrayal: it's all in a day's work

Stella is just
minding her own business and having a bit of fun, working as an exotic
dancer at the Peacock Lounge. Through no fault of her own, she witnesses
a double murder and gets pulled into a shady dance of deceit with
political bigwigs, mob bosses, dirty cops and scheming widows. Now she's
everyone's target; her only chance is to sift through the lies and
expose the truth.

He
looks up at me, a blissful smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting
to do this for nearly fifteen years, Stella. Ever since we met in
ninth grade.” He pinches me, hard, and I moan in agonized ecstasy.
“Do you know how many wet dreams I had, fantasizing about your
incredible tits? I used to picture myself straddling you, with my
cock stuffed between them, rubbing back and forth until I sprayed my
jizz all over them. It never took long; half a dozen strokes was
enough when your tits were involved.”

“Jimmy...”

“Or
sometimes, you’d do it for me. You spread yourself over my face so
that I could eat you. Meanwhile, you’d be down in my groin, sucking
me while you smothered my cock in your breasts. I always like to
imagine the come dripping from your lips down your chest, gathering
in little drops on your nipples.”

“PLEASE,
Jimmy! You’re driving me crazy!” Was he trying to be cruel, or
was he just lost in adolescent memories? “You want to eat me? Don’t
talk about it, do it! I’m begging you.”

Jimmy
seems to wake from a kind of dream. “What? God—I’m sorry,
Stella. I didn’t mean to neglect you.” He leans over and kisses
me. I arch my back, trying to rub my clit against his body. “I’d
love to eat you, sweetie. My lifelong ambition.”

He
bends over, and with gentle fingers separates my lower lips. Then he
blows warm air on the hot, damp flesh. I convulse, my flesh
twitching. Next he touches the tip of his tongue to my rudely jutting
clit. The sensation’s incredible, but it’s not enough. It’s too
tentative, too delicate.

“Jimmy,
don’t tease me anymore!” I beg. “I need you.” I grab his head
in both hands and try to force his mouth down on my cunt. But he’s
strong. I can’t budge him. Gently he untangles my fingers from his
hair and places my hands back on the couch. “Let me,” he says.

Then
he bends to my sex and swallows me whole. He fastens his mouth on my
cunt like there’s a vacuum seal. Like I’m a fruit and he’s
sucking out my pulp. Like he truly wants to consume me. His lips
capture my labia. His tongue probes my folds. His teeth graze my
aching clit, sending bolts of pleasure arching up my spine. The
suction distorts and displaces my swollen flesh, pulling me along
toward my climax.

I
couldn’t resist even if I wanted to. I thrash and scream, clamping
my thighs around his head. Everything is dark, except for the stars
whirling around my head. His saliva flows in streams down my thighs,
mingled with my own juices. I am drowned, flooded, washed away.

The
stars streak through the dark. Lightning strikes my sex and sizzles
through me, burning everything in its path. I hear myself scream,
feel my body shaking in some kind of fit. I am rising, floating,
freed by the convulsions racking my flesh.